hanging
by SpiritPrincess101
Summary: She knows of his successes-his diligence, his challenges, his triumphs. He's all over television and newspapers, though often his interview answers do not surpass one syllable. But it's been three years. THREE YEARS. And what with only one letter from him every six months, she sometimes wondered if it was still worth the wait.


The young woman stared at the television, her gaze flickering only occasionally at a sound out of place or the obnoxious ring of the telephone that invaded her ears.

Curled up on the couch, her eyes followed the figure on the screen without fail. An interview was occurring. Nichiuri TV was desperately trying to catch up with their intended target. However, the young man had simply picked up his tennis bag without a word and was currently briskwalking quickly away-his silhouette was rapidly disappearing from view. Despite the crew's most pleading cries, his face remained rigidly faced away from the camera and the focus eventually returned to a disappointed and defeated reporter.

"Well, that's it, folks. Tezuka Kunimitsu, new reigning Grand Slam champion! This dependable star from Japan that shot into the pro tennis world just 3 years ago is now at the top of the world, and we can only wait to see what else he has in store for us. Nakamura Seiji, here reporting in London."

The channel switched over to a commercial about organic gardening, and the woman lazily took the remote control and turned the TV off. It shut down with a satisfying _zrpp__ppp_. She set the remote roughly back down on the glass table and returned to her curled-up position, resting her chin on her knees and swaying back and forth in thought.

It had been three years. THREE. Unbelievably long. Years.

She had kept up with Tezuka's progress-going so far to even secretly call into Germany every few weeks and ask how he was doing. He did send her letters every half of a year, but there was no way that those brief pieces of writing would be enough to satisfy her curiosity and worry about his new life. When she called, Juergen, his trainer, offered to give the phone to Tezuka, but she panicked and quickly turned down the kind offer. She didn't want to burden him, or mislead him into thinking that she was overly attached and clingy (though in hindsight a few days later, when the desire to just hear Tezuka's voice crossed her mind, she then kicked herself for not saying yes straight away).

Hearing from Juergen that Tezuka's elbow had initially been giving him trouble had greatly alarmed her. She had even dropped the phone in her shock and almost knocked over the pot of soup that she was making. But when she called again the second time, his trainer assured her that he was slowly healing and progressing at an impressive rate in both endurance and skills.

After making sure for the 100th time that things were going well, the woman had put the phone down and slumped in relief into a chair. She didn't realize it before, but now she knew exactly how much she loved him. How deeply she was in love with him. Because when Juergen told her that Tezuka was perfectly fine, it was like a huge stone that had been weighing her down now had disappeared without a trace.

And it was a bittersweet realization, tinged with bubbly warmth and cringeworthy pain.

When she had decided to let him go, all of her friends had told her she was crazy for waiting for him. Even Fuji had attempted to coax her into forgetting Tezuka, and they hadn't exchanged more than 10 words the last time Tezuka had introduced her to his best friend. So, perhaps hearing all of their doubts, her heart had also been infected with some skepticism regarding her feelings. How long could they last? Would they at all?  
But now she knew. It didn't matter if Tezuka wasn't with her, or even if he would never come back to her. She would love him, and care for him, and want to know everything about him.

...well, not quite. A pang of something dashed across her chest, leaving a burning streak in its wake.  
What if he really didn't ever come back? What if she let him go, never to see him again?

Okay, fine, she was being melodramatic. If she really wanted to, she could call Tezuka himself and ask to meet him in Germany, or even possibly Japan. And, it wasn't like she regretted letting him go. She _wanted_ him to succeed, almost even more than she desired to see him.

Yet, nevertheless, something in her heart just couldn't take the possibility of him never returning to her without feeling some burning pain. She was scared, to be honest. Like a wild animal dangling in a hunting net from a tree, she felt trapped. She was hanging by a gossamer thread from the clouds and had no clue if she was going to fall to heartbreak or a lifelong loneliness.

She was scared. And it was like the only thing that could fix it was Tezuka coming home.

The phone rang. The woman glanced at it, but decided she was too down to get up and retrieve it, so she ignored it. But the phone was obnoxiously persistent, and she growled. She stalked over to the phone and yanked the cord out of the wall. The ring fell silent, and she returned _again_ to her spot on the couch.

Now, her cell phone rang, the vibrations causing it to bounce around in a circle on the glass table. She glared at her cell, but reproachfully picked it up, glancing at the caller ID. _'Unknown'?_ she raised an eyebrow and flipped open the phone.

"Yes?" she couldn't prevent a touch of annoyance from seeping into her greeting.

"Hello."

The woman almost dropped the phone again.

"T-Tezuka-kun? What-I mean, why-er, what's up?" _Wow, way to act cool_.

She heard his deep chuckle on the other end of the line, and she flushed further in embarrassment.

"Open your door, there's something for you."

The woman raised both eyebrows now in doubt. _Did he order something for me?_ but she got off the couch and hurried to the front door. As she unlocked and swung it wide open, the phone really did drop this time, as did her jaw.

"Tezuka...kun..." Nothing else could come from her mouth, but tears of joy began welling up in her eyes and automatically, she moved to hug her boyfriend's waist tightly, burying her face in his chest. His natural musky smell, combined with his cologne, overwhelmed her nose, and she sucked in a deep, happy breath. It was his smell. It was _him_. Tezuka, her boyfriend, her love-in the flesh!

Tezuka smiled. He bent his neck and kissed the woman on the top of her head, also inhaling the smell of his beloved's hair and reveling in the feel of her in his arms. His grip around her shoulders tightened slightly, and he finally spoke.

"I'm home, Akari."

-To vivvy09: here's what I could come up with in reply for your suggestion on "heavens above" hopefully it didn't disappoint!


End file.
